Seoul Arts High School, Class 1, Year 2, First day of the new semester.
Kim Yeo-ju quietly opened the door and entered the classroom.
An unfamiliar space, unfamiliar air, and murmurs.
In it, the female protagonist bowed her head without saying a word.
“Oh, he’s a transfer student.”
“Photographer. It looks quiet.”
“Isn’t that the kid who carried a camera?”
The eyes of art high school students are sharp and quick.
Because what catches your attention before your name is your energy.
"Okay, we have a new friend in our class. Let's get along well from now on."
At the homeroom teacher's words, Yeoju gave a short greeting.
“This is Kim Yeo-ju. Please take good care of me.”
The classroom became quiet for a moment.
A student who speaks little and appears indifferent.
The heroine was holding an old film camera in her hand.
The strap marks were clear on the shoulder.
But the seat she sat in.
Third row from the window.
In the front seat, a male student with a neat back was sitting.
And the heroine remembered a photo she had taken by chance just a few days ago.
.
.
.
Corner of the gym.
An afternoon when light was slanted in through a crack in the window.
On the way to the teachers' office to submit documents,
I saw someone through the open gym door.
A male student wearing a fencing uniform.
The moment the mask is taken off.
At that moment, I unconsciously pressed the shutter.
Click.
His face was right in the frame.
Sunlight poured down from behind, enveloping the boy like a spotlight.
Until then, I didn't think that photo was special.
.
.
.
Photography Club East.
Yeoju was developing the film she had shot as a test.
One picture, two pictures…
The silhouette of that moment appeared on the paper.
And, just one sheet.
The light was too diffuse.
To be exact, only around the boy in the fencing uniform.
“…What is this?”
It was a gym with no lights whatsoever.
It's not that the exposure is wrong,
It wasn't even an angle where a light leak would occur.
But only that photo,
Light flowed in all directions from the area where the child was.
.
.
.
A few days later.
It's club promotion week on campus. The day of the fencing club's demonstration match.
Yeoju didn't go there to see anything, nor was she waiting for anyone.
I just needed a ‘scene’.
But as soon as I entered the gym
A familiar back figure moving with a sword in hand came into view.
“…It’s that kid again.”
The light followed him.
The heroine held her breath and picked up the camera.
Just before pressing the shutter,
He raised his eyes.
Exactly, I looked at the female protagonist.
No, the lens the heroine is holding.
Click.
My heart fluttered slightly.
.
.
.
The next day.
“Honey, did you take this picture?”
A senior from the photography club came to see me with a photo.
"Can I use this as a poster? This is crazy. The atmosphere is really no joke."
“What is it…?”
The photo she accepted.
A cut of a male student in a fencing uniform staring straight ahead.
The composition is so precise that it looks like a staged scene.
The light enveloped the background like a halo.
“…You can use it.”
So the photo was posted on the school bulletin board the next day.
And in the afternoon after class.
Someone approached the heroine.
“You’re Kim Yeo-ju, right?”
A low, neat voice.
The character in the poster.
The kid was standing there holding a picture.
“This. Did you take this picture?”
The heroine nodded.
"…why."
“…Just because it came out well.”
“…But, did you get permission?”
Words thrown out carelessly.
But strangely enough, it stuck like a wound.
The heroine raised her head without saying a word.
He spoke quietly, very clearly.
“I took a picture of that moment, not of you.”
His eyes wavered slightly.
Then he spoke briefly.
“…But next time, speak up and take the picture.”
He folded the photo, put it in his bag, and turned around.
That night.
The heroine took out the photo again.
And in the still frame,
I looked into his face for a long time, his eyes wide open.
Then, I discovered something else strange.
The lighting in the photo was perfect.
But the place where he was was strangely blurred.
The light doesn't spread, and the focus doesn't waver.
Just the place where that child is,
Strangely… like an emotion.
The heroine quietly flipped the photo over.
And then it occurred to me for the first time.
Why does that kid keep coming into the frame?
Continued in the next episode >>>>
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